Kilvanian Chronicles
by Psycho-Violinst
Summary: Kilvanian enjoys an exciting life as the most wanted assassin and bounty hunter in all of the Forgotten Realms. Based in a time of political turmoil.


Garrick slapped some warmth back into his arms as he murmured to himself. He hates nightshift, the dread of all the Seluene house guards. And the thought of spending it with the whining Frederickson made it all the more dreadful. In contradiction the Garrick's quite. Calm nature Frederickson liked to spend his time audibly complaining about their master, Lord Seluene. An unwise choice on his behalf. Lord Ramsly Seluene was the finest swordsman in all of Baldurs Gate, this added with the fact that he has ears all over the city made the best complaints about him silent ones.

"And then he goes and acts like nothing has happened, I'm like hello! You just went and had my half brother murdered!"

The whining of the Frederickson's voice pierced Garrick's' mental barrier.

"Will you quit your insistent...did you hear that?"

The chirping of a lone cricket, the scream of a mugger's victim some where in the distance, nothing out of the ordinary. As they were starting to relax Garrick noticed a movement in his peripheral vision down the side of the building.

"Over there"

With sweat beads of fear running down their faces the two guards entered the darkness, swords drawn and at the ready, they took their first tentative steps.

"Lady's first" motioned Frederickson.

Silently cursing Frederickson Garrick started poking around behind crates and the like.

"There's nothing here Fred"

Garrick turned to face Frederickson just in time to see his body start to levitate from the ground. Then with a terrible ripping sound his head was torn from his body and rolled in Garrick's direction. He turned to flee, only to face the assailant. The six-foot elf grasped his throat and lifted him of the ground with clear ease.

"Can you get me pasted the front door?" The voice was uncomfortably soothing and heavily accented of the northern realms.

"No....no I... I cant" Garrick stammered

The elf looked disappointed.

With a sharp crack and a warm splatter of blood, death embraced Garrick.

The elf looked to the stars.

"Helm, forgive me, it must be done"

Lord Ramsly was taking his first sip of his newly imported red wine when he sensed it, a kind of disturbance in the atmosphere. The lord rose to his feet while thinking that the past few years studying with the monks of Tiora are paying off.

He turned from his desk to face his visitor.

The elf was reclining in one of the large couches located on the far side of the office; his shoulder length bright blue hair was glistening in the candlelight.

"Ah, master Kilvanian I assume, I was expecting you" Said the Lord whilst drawing his rapier.

"Mmmm" mused Kilvanian.

"Who sent you?" asked the lord as he took a tentative step forward.

"You know as well as I that by telling you that I would be breaching my contract" soothed the elf as he calmly rose from the couch removing his twin daggers from his boots.

"And I would also be breaching my contract if I didn't kill you tonight"

"I see," replied the lord.

"Well elf, come collect your bounty"

Kilvanian kept his calm posture while he studied his opponent. He appeared to favour his right leg. But the man was still fast. Even though the elf moved with supreme agility the lord's attack still caught him flat footed. The lord's sword hilt smashed into Kilvanian's chin and sent him sprawling across the floor and into a glass cabinet. The lord smirked to himself and continued advancing on the elf. The lord swung at Kilvanian's upper chest but this time he was prepared for the attack. As the lord lunged forward he ducked under his blade and pivoted to his left, smashing his shin into the Lord's right knee. The lord dropped to his knees but it was too late. By the time he hit the floor Kilvanian had plunged one knife into his back and drawn the other one sleekly across his throat, silencing any screams that might escape. Kilvanian studied his work and smiled, another job well done. He walked over to the bookshelf and plucked out an interesting tome on Halfling Folklore. He took the unfinished glass of wine from the desk and strode back to the couch on the far side of the room. He took a sip of the wine as he reclined into the couch.

"It appears my little friend here had some taste" he mused to himself.

He removed his glasses from his pocket and started reading the tome he held before him.

"I love this job"


End file.
